Finders Keepers
by Kristen999
Summary: Sheppard needs to write a handbook about being held captive. AU version to “Travelers” where John wasn't returned at the end. HC
1. Chapter 1

Title: "Finders Keepers" Gen  
Author: Kristen999  
Character(s): Sheppard...Some Team.  
Genre(s): Stargate Atlantis: H/C.  
Rating: T  
Words: 10,600  
Spoilers: Season 4 "Travelers"

Summary: Sheppard needs to write a handbook about being held captive. AU version to "Travelers" where John wasn't returned at the end.

Notes: Holidays tend to mess with the writing process. Will try to post the last half tomorrow night when I get it back from beta. Thank you to Julie for the quick pinch hit!

This is self indulgent, what can I say!

* * *

Rodney knew his computer didn't hold any answers and staring at the view screen of empty space wasn't going to reveal a magic trail for them to follow. The silence inside the jumper was heavy which defied all logic since sound or the absence of sound really didn't contain matter. A rash of Satedan obscenities, or even a demand for them to do something more, no matter how irrational, would be welcomed. Ronon fumed in his seat reaching a conclusion Rodney had not accepted yet---that there was nothing to be done. 

Sheppard was gone.

Lorne busied himself with the other jumpers, radioing orders about returning to Atlantis because really, where would they even begin looking? They had just spent twelve hours searching in a grid based on a really big 'what if' and it just blew up in their faces.

Or disappeared into a hyperspace window.

These people had advanced technology; he'd seen it with his own eyes with the data collected after Sheppard had been abducted.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. He should have been prepared for something like this. Every lesson in the Pegasus galaxy stated to expect—the unexpected.

He looked to Teyla for something---anything. She always had a proverb or a saying collected from Athosian versions of Chinese cookies. This time however, there was no mask or air of confidence. Only sagging shoulders and dull eyes.

Major Lorne didn't turn around; he had the distraction of flying. "Dr. McKay, do you have any other leads that we can follow?"

His team's eyes were on him and it was totally unfair. Where were they when he needed the reassurance? It wasn't like he could get a Ouija board and ask it where the ships had gone.

The urge to lash out, to insult the Major or sneer in his response, was palpable, but there what was the point? It wouldn't make him feel better. Sheppard had been the one to provide them with their only lead and that stung enough. Leave it to the colonel to resort to old-fashioned S.O.S.

"Dr. McKay?" Lorne turned this time.

Served him right. Why was he allowed the distraction of piloting when the rest of them could only wallow in defeat?

"I don't know," he said.

There it was again. Maybe he was wrong...silence wasn't heavy...it was hollow.

* * *

He really should write a manual about being held prisoner, not the stuff the military tells you to do when caught behind enemy lines. That training was only useful to a degree. Aliens don't understand or give a damn about words like _Lieutenant Colonel _and he never bothered with his serial number. What was the use of that really? There was no Internet to look up personal information to use against him. 

No, it was the mundane stuff, the fundamentals so to speak.

Ignore the confinement. Ignore how the walls taunted and the doors teased a means of escape. Know the reasons for the incarceration. It varied but it always boiled down to the same things: information or one's value. The latter always made things worse.

Be aware that there were no negotiations for release, not that it mattered in his case. The other really crappy thing about his current situation was this time, he couldn't count on his Team for help.

Sheppard made a mistake; it never occurred to him that _her_ people would get here first. He didn't know where in the galaxy he was and any attempts at escape would be insurmountably difficult after his success from earlier. He thought about pacing but his belly ached. It was just one of the fun after effects of being stunned at point blank range and he forced himself to sit on his bunk.

And wait.

Another thing he might add to his manual. Don't ever lower your guard with the person who kidnapped you even if she was beautiful.

He sighed. Maybe the stupid pins and needles would recede soon or his throbbing headache might dull to less annoying levels. He didn't mean to fall asleep but he couldn't recall the last time he gave in to exhaustion.

Larrin stood outside his door after shoving a tray of food inside.

"Room service?" He asked cockily.

She rolled her eyes. "Please. I came by to tell you to rest up, you have a long day tomorrow."

"Great. And here I thought you came bearing gifts after thinking over my offer of an alliance."

Larrin's facade cracked a little but the emotionless mask was back. "I was impressed and I told you it really made me re-evaluate my opinion of you."

"The saving your life twice wasn't enough?"

"You have my word in a few days you'll be returned."

"After I play lab rat for all your new shiny toys."

"You'll be helping thousands of my people. Maybe one day when this is all over, you'll understand."

She was gone and he was still left in a cell. Charm and reason were out the window. Being a guinea pig was not an option and once again he was left contemplating the rules of imprisonment.

Try to escape. Again.

Keeping his strength up was definitely a cardinal rule. He looked at the nutritional blob that these space nomads called food and frowned. It was like a cross between jello and plastic, but he ate it, or half of it. His body was still unhappy about the whole stunning issue and the taste of jelly-crap only made his guts churn uncomfortably.

Staying alert to changes in his environment should be a given. He heard two sets of footsteps and his new guests unlocked the door quickly, pointing stunners at him. Sheppard was no fool and stood up, backing up a step even while he weighed the options of taking them out.

Not yet. He didn't have a plan.

"You here for the turn down service? I'd like an extra blanket."

Both men were taller, about his age and except one had a gut. They had to smuggle food somehow, no way did any of them eat enough to be overweight. The one with the metabolism problem had thinning dark hair and bushy eyebrows. His buddy was the spitting image of Fabio from those cheap romance novel covers with his thick, long hair and blue eyes.

"Hey guys," he said, smiling.

Pudgy glared at him. "We were friends with Silas."

Sheppard tried to look remorseful even if that was the guy who enjoyed making him bleed. "Sorry, about what happened."

Fabio circled around to stand behind him, which was never a good sign.

"I'm sure you're both upset. You have a right to be," Sheppard said, sounding as calm as possible.

"You got him and Nevik killed," Pudgy snarled, curling massive, calloused hands that would make a mason envious.

Alarm bells went off in Shepard's head. "Look, the Wraith attacked. It was very unfortunate, but I really think your leader Larrin would be very unhappy about ...you know about whatever you're thinking of doing."

"Don't worry. We're not going to ruin your face more than it is. She'll never know," Pudgy declared.

Before Sheppard could react his back exploded from a jab from the pointed end of a stunner. His muscles turned to taffy and Fabio took advantage by pulling his arms behind his back.

"Guess...you guys...never heard of the Geneva Convention," Sheppard panted.

The first punch to the gut knocked the wind out of him. The second and third ones buckled his knees making it easier for the real punishment. Fists hardened by manual labor sent blow after blow to his ribs. The world buzzed and his vision became gray, then stark white. He didn't realize he was a pile of broken limbs on the floor until one of the guards kicked him between the shoulder blades.

"Just so you know, you mention word of this. And you're dead."

Footsteps clomped away leaving him in a daze of pain and disorientation. There was a sarcastic voice in the back of his head chiding him about killing friends of the guards. No, that never came up in their training classes either. Then the blissful darkness took him away.

* * *

Larrin wasn't taking any chances this time around, Sheppard's escort included Fabio and two other twitchy guards who watched his every move. He was glad he'd made such an impression, not that he could have taken them all on if he wanted to. His ribs were sore, every muscle in his back twinged and he was lucky that he wasn't pissing blood from that nasty kidney shot. 

There were more scientists crawling around where he was lead to the engineering section of the Ancient warship.

"You're quiet," Larrin said, breaking up the silence.

Sheppard glanced at Fabio before speaking in his flippant tone. "Didn't get much sleep last night. You need to hire new maids; your current ones don't know how to fluff my pillows the way I like them."

Larrin made another introduction, acting as if this was true partnership without duress. "This is Dr. Lance. You'll be working with him today, getting propulsion on line."

Doctor Lance was a typical carbon copy scientist, awkward on social niceties and over hyped about circuit boards and math equations. Sheppard decided that the table of contents for his taken prisoner manual would include a chapter for people with the ATA gene.

They were a special breed of prisoner after all.

"Please touch this."

"Could you concentrate on the forward drive."

"Now think about the fuel conduits."

Sheppard would make contact with panels, let his hand hover over others. The past few required a much higher level of focus; lights flickered off and on causing the tingling in his fingertips to increase. The cool thing about Ancient technology was it could be very self sufficient, requiring only his presence to make it operate. The downside of a biological interface with equipment that was ten thousand year old was that it relied on the human connection too heavily when it was broken.

By hour three a dull throb developed around his temples, spiking like a knife in his left eye. He unbuttoned his uniform top when the t-shirt underneath began sticking to his skin. He leaned on the console before him, his beat up body protesting the extra strain upon it.

Dr. Lance ran a hand through his curly hair and fussed with his glasses as he checked between his tablet and the panel. "Yes, there, whatever you're doing. Just..um..." the scientist pointed to a schematic on the screen. "See if you can get those two energy bars to merge."

Sheppard took his hand away and glared at the mousy man who shrunk back at his intensity. "You could say please every once in a while," he drawled.

There were three guards and a team of geeks running around. This wasn't the time for an attempt at grandstanding, but he would be damned if he bowed and curtsied to every whim of these people.

"Would you please?" The researcher asked, checking the guards who eyed them.

Sheppard thought about the lines on the screen and focused on them becoming one. The sensitivity in his hand increased, tiny ants crawled over his skin and thousands of legs ghosted over nerves. A warm feeling creped up his arm and droplets of sweat ran down his face and pooled at his armpits.

He lost himself in spirals of color and shimmering light.

"_Mr. Sheppard?"_

"Mr. Sheppard!"

Someone shook his shoulder and his eyes snapped open as he took a swing at whomever had startled him. The guard easily dodged the blow, aiming his weapon at Sheppard who swayed on his feet before the room swam back into focus.

Dr. Lance waved the guard away and approached in front of him. "That was unexpected."

"What happened?" Sheppard asked.

"You zoned out there for ten minutes and didn't respond. One of the security people became suspicious and tried to snap you out of it."

_Not good John._

Sheppard wiped at his brow acting dumb. "Weird."

The researcher squinted at him through his glasses. "That ever happen to you before?"

"No," Sheppard lied.

Never admit weakness to those holding you hostage. It was something drilled into him during training exercises and mock POW camps. It was just common sense. No need exposing a vulnerability that might intrigue those so enamored with his genetic makeup.

The researcher clutched his hand held computer. "Very well. Now let's see if we can get these energy signatures all at the same level," he gestured at another grid on the overhead screen.

On hour seven he gave in and sat in the chair in front of the panel since his feet were going to give out on him. A tight band of pain wrapped a circumference around his head, forcing his eyes closed because the light only magnified his migraine. He curled his hand into a fist anytime he felt it tremble and the kaleidoscope of color behind his closed lids danced and morphed as he re-routed pathways in his mind.

Dr. Lance never stopped talking adding credence that all uber intelligent people channeled their energy through their vocal chords.

"I never knew that the gene could actually work like this. Activate things sure, but bonding to this level and depth with the actual process is fascinating. We need to have Dr. Chauklin conduct tests and observe tomorrow so we can study it in more detail."

"He's been busy with the blood work analysis but I'm sure he'll love to be involved."

That was Larrin's voice and Sheppard cursed himself for loosing track of time again. "I'm not your little gerbil," he growled.

He forced himself to sit up from his slouched position to glower at her. "I agreed to help you get this ship operational and that's it."

She smiled, knowing she held the upper hand. "And we'll do as much research as possible in the mean time."

"I think I've punched my time card for today," he said, getting to his feet.

"How about dinner, then?"

The thought of food made his insides squirm. "Not tonight," he managed to sound stronger then he felt.

The flash of disappointment was there and gone before Larrin cocked her head in nonchalance. "Suit yourself. If you prefer your cell." She eyed him critically for a moment. "Maybe you should rest, you look...tired."

* * *

No one should ever be surprised by prisoner abuse; it's a major tendency in guards. The thing to take in consideration was how much to endure to stay alive and when to fight back and suffer the outcome. 

Pudgy and Fabio reappeared only an hour after he collapsed on his bunk feeling depleted and weak. He recognized the footsteps, measured the beats before they entered the cell. He'd been gathering his reserves for this and watched the shadows cross the floor. He jumped up and plowed a fist into one stomach, doubling that person over. Then he connected with the jaw of the other guard before popping the same guy on the chin with a right hook.

Sheppard spun around to stay on the offensive when his body spasmed from a stunner blast to the chest. His body crumpled to the floor, every nerve ending was on fire and his limbs twitched uncontrollably. It took a few seconds to realize he wasn't unconscious and laid on his back helpless and unable to move.

Pudgy rubbed at his jaw ruefully and loomed over Sheppard with his gun pointed at him. "We forgot to tell you about the plan tonight. See these weapons have settings and half power really hurts but doesn't knock you out."

His buddy laughed like a circus seal. "Yeah, we decided not to beat on you tonight. This is more fun," Fabio taunted. "So, do you want to next blast in the shoulder or the stomach?"

"I was thinking the head myself," Pudgy said pointing the weapon at his skull.

"What is going on here?"

He felt half-dead but recognized Larrin's sharp command.

"We came to check on the prisoner and he attacked us, Commander."

There were more footsteps and the cell filled with two more security people. He didn't know which moron was trying to cover their ass but the firecracker of a women leaned over him. "Why would you do such a stupid thing?"

Sheppard wet his lips with a numb tongue. "Better question...should be... Do you always let...your guards, beat up your house guests?"

He heard the Terrible Two try to backpedal, but Larrin held up her hand to silence them. "What are you talking about? Don't try to pull one over on me. I have no problem with putting you in shackles and pumping you full of drugs to get you to cooperate properly."

"Let's just say," Sheppard had to take a breath and struggle to keep from slurring his words. "Twettle Dee and Twettle Dumb...like to get their licks in...to avenge their buddy Silas."

The air was thick, the silence brought on by his accusation was palatable. All he wanted to do was keep his plastic dinner on the inside. Larrin took his chin between her fingers, twisting his face one way then another, scowling in doubt. She trailed her finger down the side of his cheek then slinked it over the fabric of his T-shirt. His body quivered from the touch and he tried to wiggle away when she pulled up the hem of his tee to reveal his stomach and chest.

Larrin had a temper and the fire that raged in her eyes reflected in the venom of her voice.

"We do what we have to in order to survive. Some of our methods may not be nice, but I don't approve of this," she hissed.

Sheppard had a tough time staying awake between the stunning and his day playing a human operating system for an ailing ship. He heard the whine of weapons, the shuffling of feet and his body was lifted up and placed on his bunk.

"Black and blue isn't a good color on you," Larrin said, pushing his hair away from his forehead.

"Neither are prison stripes," he said, breathing heavily.

"I can't release you yet."

Despite feeling like he'd been wrung out to dry, he forced his eyes open to lay an angry gaze on her. "We made a deal. A few days."

Larrin's expression was regretful but her words didn't earn her any sympathy. "We have to keep you for long as it takes. I'm sorry...I'll have a doctor take a look at you."

"No, just go away," Sheppard said bitterly.

When the person in charge of his incarceration reflected remorse in her otherwise dangerous eyes then he knew he's just failed a basic principle.

He trusted Larrin to keep to her word and now he was going to pay for it.

* * *

Teyla lit the candles that surrounded her room, allowing the warm glow to provide a sense of tranquility. This outer atmosphere did not reflect how she felt inside and the wicks burned endless trails of wax before she folded her legs to meditate. Closing her eyes to the world did not banish the negativity residing in her soul and she took deep breaths to try to excise them. She needed to be clear minded to be able to help John. 

Fear and the unknown were dangers in her life before Atlantis and a constant since joining the lead off-world team. They all knew the risks, made choices in the heat of battle and suffered the fallout from those decisions.

This wasn't the first that the colonel had seemed lost to them. She had tasted helplessness when confronted with the iratus bug attached to his neck, or the retrovirus that slowly stole his humanity. Each time she stood by his side as they fought an enemy without a soul.

They lived day-to-day aware of the growing number of groups that sought their destruction. The last time they had been made to feel this impotent was through a camera lens. Koyla had done the unthinkable, crossed a line no one ever dared in his blood feud. But Koyla had a face, he was a known enemy, someone to target.

This time, they had nothing at all.

The next morning, after she'd managed five hours sleep, Teyla arrived to the meeting, focused and determined. They were on day three and if they were changing strategies there was much ground to cover.

"We don't have a way to track Colonel Sheppard since there is no point of origin to go by. I think our best option is to begin approaching planets that are involved in heavy trading. We're dealing with a new race or group of people who have capable technology to our own. Someone, somewhere must know of them," Colonel Carter explained.

"That's your plan?" Ronon asked, unconvinced.

"Do you know how many planets that involves?" Rodney huffed.

"We can count those." Carter explained, "We can't search every sector of space. We ask questions, offer incentives for information, maybe even pressure." With the last, she eyed the Satedan speculatively.

"Another needle in a hay stack," Rodney grumbled.

Teyla did not know what that meant, but the defeatists' attitude was obvious. "We will do whatever it takes. Do we have enough people?"

Major Lorne dropped a PDA on the table. "We have teams already assembled, including many volunteers. If we work efficiently, we can cover a lot of different posts. We'll keep to only major hubs."

"Colonel Caldwell is lending assistance in whatever we need as well," Carter added.

Teyla headed to the armory to get her gear with more purpose. Last night they came back empty, today was what they called a long shot.

It was something.

* * *

He felt beat to a pulp, like he'd been tossed down a ravine and hit every rock and bolder on the way down. Something woke him up and he swung his legs around at the sounds of approaching footsteps. Larrin shut down the force field and entered his cell a new guy trailing behind her. 

"Time to make the donuts?" Sheppard asked.

"This is Dr. Chauklin, he'll be studying your neurological responses today. You'll be working in the control chair," Larrin explained.

"My next dental check up is six weeks away." Sheppard laid the sarcasm on thick because it hid how crappy he felt. He resisted the urge to massage his temples and rid the vice trying to crush his skull.

Dr. Chauklin looked like his uncle Pete who used to give him a lollipop as a kid every time he visited. The Doc had thinning silver hair that was mostly bald on the top and spectacles. "The tests today are vital to the success of perfecting our interface. The more you cooperate, the closer we'll get where we won't need your assistance."

"The definition of cooperation includes the words mutual agreement, so forgive me if I don't share your enthusiasm," Sheppard snarled. The guy reminded him about a nicer time in his childhood but at the moment he was just another mad scientist.

"Let's go," Larrin commanded.

When it came to behavior and interacting with the enemy there were loads and loads of subtext about being _uncooperative._ He was going to test the bounds and limitations of that today.

There was a larger security detail in the chair room to study his every move.

"Are they here in case for persuasion if things don't go right?" He gestured towards the four guards.

"You've proven quite resourceful before and I won't take any chances when you're working on so many systems at once." Larrin took a spot in the corner.

Dr. Lance joined the party and the two docs babbled and circled him like a prized specimen. For six hours they asked him to search for programs, track down anomalies and communicate with inactive protocols. Each directive he blocked, stalled and buried code too deeply for the white coats to find.

"No, no. This isn't working at all. Are you paying attention to the graph?" Lance asked, pointing at the computer screen. "You're causing a power flux!"

"Sorry, not sure why it isn't working," Sheppard feigned ignorance.

"Mr. Sheppard, when you activate systems do they appear to you as concepts or do you receive visual pictures of everything?" Dr. Chauklin inquired.

"A little of both, I guess," Sheppard answered truthfully.

"And if you don't know how to do something what do you do?"

"I think about it some more."

"It's subconscious communication that takes place. Even if you have no knowledge of quantum algorithms used in certain sub-routines. You can still command them to do something or alter them, correct?" Chauklin pressed.

Sheppard shifted in the chair uncomfortably, the pressure in his head was trying to push his brain out his ears and it was harder to think clearly. "Yeah, something like that."

"Then we all know you can realign the power output without a problem and I bet find a way to streamline it in the process. I'm monitoring you, so stop wasting our time, son. You're only going to prolong your time with us."

Sheppard chewed on his bottom lip. He was a prisoner no matter how these people sugarcoated it. "Even animals rebel inside their cages, Doc. No matter how you justify things, this is just another set of bars."

"Animals are rewarded when they behave, Sheppard. You'll stay in that chair all night unless you do as you're told," Larrin warned.

Sheppard didn't have a flashy comeback, he was sweating through his T-shirt again and his entire body ached from head to toe. He wasn't making the progress they wanted but he was still hooked into every major system, fighting hard to resist all the urging from the mainframe to repair things. He closed his eyes; it took more energy to repress the directives from the ship and he just wanted to crawl away.

It felt like giving in and letting them win if he followed through with things, but he was running out of options.

"The power output?"

Sheppard didn't know which one of them was prodding him but the interface was more powerful then any of their threats. "Clearing the pathways," he replied, begrudgingly.

He immersed himself in equations, linear and non-linear, turning on code and fixing broken links. There were mental nudges and extreme concentration at times, more often then not it was just his brain acting as a conduit.

It hurt. He felt sick and hot. His migraine became the epi-center of a massive shock wave of pain and he had a difficult time finding his way back to conscious thought.

* * *

Larrin stayed in her corner feeling useless but knowing that one of the most important missions was taking place right in front of her. There was too much at stake to hope for the kindness of a stranger. Life was hard, survival required tough choices and a stomach to tolerate all the consequences. 

Nothing was ever black and white. She did what it took to get results and the key to one of her biggest problems resided with a cocky, stubborn frustrating man. She could have broken his fingers, starved him or any number of devious things to gain what was needed. Despite what the pilot thought, she wasn't that barbaric.

Munch and Stopsky floated out in space as proof.

There were rules of conduct and no leeway when it came to abuse of prisoners or anything that undermined her leadership. People lives depended on her orders.

"We should probably give him a break. It's been eight hours," Chauklin whispered.

"He's tried to sabotage things by stalling." Larrin hissed, her eyes never leaving Sheppard, "We've only made two hours of headway and that's because of his own actions. Tomorrow we'll give him one, but right now we need to make a point."

"You didn't let me examine him before this," the doctor challenged. "You did use unsavory methods on him the other day and if he's been beaten and stunned on top of that."

"He didn't want one," she snapped. "Besides he's tough."

A man whose opinion greatly mattered to her simply studied her face. "I think you're trying to distance yourself a little too much. I understand why. Don't try so hard to detach that you lose sight of things."

"Point taken."

The physician shook his head. "His color isn't good, Larrin. He looks ill. We know nothing about how the gene of the ancestors works."

She shook her head. "We have to create some discipline with him. I'll even let you give him a check up afterwards." Larrin smiled, she wasn't evil. There was a job to do.

Hours dragged on, it was time to check in with her skeleton staff. After dinner time she returned and Chauklin glared at her, his expression thunderous. She looked at the time, at the man totally unaware in the chair and exhaled a long breath.

"Let's call it a night. We're done, Sheppard," she commanded.

The systems powered down and the chair returned to its normal position. The pilot sat there for a few minutes breathing heavily before getting to his feet shakily.

"I'm...complaining to my union rep," Sheppard complained, slurring his words.

The pilot took two steps before his eyes rolled to the back of his skull and he crumpled in a heap on the floor.

Chauklin ran over and searched for a pulse. "Mr. Sheppard?" He slapped the man's face gently without a response before he took the man's head between his hands. "He's burning up."

Larrin ran over, her breath caught in her throat. Sheppard's pallor was gray, his hair plastered to his forehead slick with sweat. "What do you need?"

"His pulse is racing. Get the guards to carry him to the medical bay. I don't want to waste time taking him back to your ship."

She nodded, her security detail snapping to her orders. "Take it easy carrying him. If one of you so much as rattles him too hard, you'll be scrubbing the insides of the engines for a cycle."

* * *

Larrin didn't like surprises and she hated waiting but there was nothing for her to do except get in the way. She occupied her self with Dr. Lance's reports on their progress and looked up when one of her men approached. 

"Commander, you have a transmission from Overseer Burskaia."

"Thank you," she said, dismissing him.

She walked over to the computer screen where her temporary command area was situated and entered in her security codes until the image of superior appeared.

"_Commander,_" the man said stiffly.

"Overseer Burskaia, what can I do for you?"

"_I've been going over your developments and wanted to bring to your attention to some additional intelligence."_

"Yes, sir?"

The Overseer didn't look pleased. _"The group who we think have occupied the city of the Ancients have been causing waves with a few of our trading partners in search of their missing man."_

"We have made leaps and bounds in repair to the ship and Dr. Chauklin is making headway with--"

"_Do you know these people posses warships of the same class as our Destroyers?"_

"I was unaware of that."

"_Our spy satellite caught one coming out of an orbital ring and I must stress their ship is in much superior shape then ours. We have no idea how many might be out there. Its involved in a serious search and rescue mission."_

She didn't understand. "Sir, Sheppard is a pilot. I don't see the logic in using so many resources in--"

"_A pilot. Oh yes, he is indeed a pilot. Let me ask you this, Commander. Did you take the time to find out who you kidnapped in your little plot?"_

* * *

The medical bay was empty except for a single bed and Larrin glanced at the lone patient before walking over towards Chauklin as he monitored one of the machines. 

He looked up at her, waving her over. "Good thing this was one of the secondary units I had Mr. Sheppard activate or I'd have little to go by besides my kit."

Her eyes drifted over towards the source of so much annoyance and she blew out a breath, speaking in a voice much softer than belied her anger. "How is he?"

Chauklin looked worn out with dark circles under his eyes. "Exhausted for one. He's running a low-grade fever, suffering from dehydration. His blood pressure and his pulse are too high. I just got his blood tests back and they're confusing, but I don't have the faculties to really understand the results."

Larrin turned from the physician to Sheppard's prone form on the bed. "Keep it simple," she said, her fingers hovering above the prisoner's pale face.

"He's pretty sick. I can keep him on an IV, try to give him something that'll help bolster his electrolytes. I think that's where the problem lies but without the right equipment. I don't know," he said looking at her.

She withdrew her hand and folded her arms. "And what about interfacing with the ancient systems?"

"We can't allow any more. We don't know what we're dealing with. Even on our ship we're limited to treating triage, but only the hospital vessel has the labs needed for this."

"He could just recover, right? After a period of rest," she said, searching for any good news.

"If you want to play with his health like that. Maybe."

"I have to consult with Overseer Burskaia. Seems Sheppard's absence has really stirred things up. We may end up having to keep him as a guest permanently to avoid any possible retribution. We don't know how large their war fleet is."

"Larrin---"

"Also put him in soft restraints, he's still a security risk."

"Now wait a--"

"That's an order, doctor."

Larrin walked away, not wanting to see one her best confidant's expression. Guilt was a heavy burden of leadership and she couldn't allow emotions to influence the whole picture.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

It was day five and this was the eighth planet they had been to. Ronon wanted to be anywhere but here; forced to listen to more dribble from people who only cared about the next transaction of fruit. He knew what it was like to be held prisoner, to fight and last in order to breathe freedom again.

Sheppard was strong, fiercer on the inside than physical appearance would lead on which was his weapon. The colonel knew what it took to survive, able to come out alive from situations that would kill lesser men. Ronon also knew what it meant to be lost. It was one thing to stay alive, another to find your way back home.

The darker side of his mind filled with the countless number of horrors that could be happening in a region of space that was a mere pinprick in the sky. And all he had done for his team leader was visit farmer's markets and bazaars.

"Other people from the Ancient ring? You mean those who can fly?"

Ronon's thoughts were interrupted by faint hope.

"Yes, other people who use flying ships. Have you ever traded with them?" Teyla asked in a calm, neutral matter.

Ronon felt his muscles coil and tighten.

"Maybe," the trader hedged.

It was a natural reaction to slam the guy along the mud brick wall and lift him so high the little man's feet no longer touched the ground. So natural, in fact, that the Satedan almost didn't realize he'd done it… well, almost.

"Ronon!" Teyla yelled, "...Ronon! Put him down!"

"Who!" He continued, ignoring her demand, and giving the man a shake. "Who are they?"

Frustrated and anxious to find his friend, there was no way they were leaving yet another planet empty-handed. If this man knew people who used such technology then chances were they had taken Sheppard.

Alone... all his anger would have gotten was a name of a group of people. It became a team effort. Teyla's words, McKay's ideas, his threats.

When they were finished, they had a radio frequency that could be monitored. If these _travelers_ were the ones who took Sheppard then they had the means to track him down and bring him home.

* * *

Two months ago a Master Sergeant bled out in his arms while they had been pinned down. He carried the body back to the jumper and filled out the mission report. Hours later Sheppard had found a bottle of Athosian wine and had stared at it before putting back in his hidden stash. He hadn't slept for over twenty-six hours so he went out for a run and ran until his legs gave out from under him. Then he had gone to the gym and bullied a few Marines into sparring with him.

The next day he had awoken in his room with no recollection on how he got there with only a fuzzy memory of Lorne and Ronon's voices. He had felt like a beat up old tire but it was paradise compared to how much he hurt now.

He opened his eyes, willing hot needles to stop severing his optic nerves. His eyelids snapped shut against the onslaught of light and he couldn't suppress a groan.

"Take it easy, young man. I'll dim things down."

The voice startled him and he sucked in a breath that took more effort then it should have. It felt like he was at a high altitude without an oxygen tank. He stowed away the panic and went to rub away the sleep from his eyes only to find that he couldn't move his right wrist.

"What?" He gasped.

Whiled the diffused lights no longer goaded the needles, his head still felt on the verge of imploding. Sheppard yanked both hands, but soft leather impeded any movement, sending his legs flailing and failing.

"Take it easy, Mr. Sheppard. Please calm down."

"What the hell?" Sheppard croaked.

An elderly face peered over him and uttered reassurances that went into deaf ears.

"Untie me," he growled this time.

"Only if you lie still," the voice commanded.

It was his Uncle Pete disguised as a space nomad doctor but there were no lollipops and he was now restrained. "Cage...not good enough...we goin' for tying the dog down for the night?"

"It's morning now, Sheppard and those were so you didn't wander off," Larrin's voice echoed loudly.

He was beginning to really hate the sound of it. "Where am I now?"

The IV should have been a dead giveaway and he felt like throwing up all over Larrin's leather clothes.

"It seems you forgot to mention that working with Ancient technology for too long has bad side effects," she accused.

He really didn't feel up to a verbal battle. "More...of an omission."

The doctor was at his other side. "That was dangerous screwing with your body like that."

Sheppard propped himself on his elbows. "Would it have made a difference? I don't have any rights last I heard. I'm just your test subject." He lay back down, squeezing his eyes shut from a wave of dizziness.

He felt the restraints loosen and he freed his wrists while the physician undid the ones around his ankles.

"Since this isn't something new, care to fill me in on how to treat you?" Chauklin asked.

"I don't know...usually I sleep it off, and Cars-- I mean they give me stuff. Don't know what. Normally it isn't this bad," he admitted.

"Funny how little omissions can come back to bite you in the ass, isn't it?" Larrin asked smugly.

Sheppard wasn't up for this; he hadn't had a shower since his capture and his skin felt damp, sickly.

"Like the fact, that it's _Colonel_ Sheppard, in charge of the military of your base," her voiced dripped in acid.

His ears perked up at that and he peeled his lids open again. "How'd ya know that?"

Her face reddened. "Damn it, Sheppard! Should have figured you were more than just a arrogant pilot after the trouble you caused."

"Yeah? Did it ever occur to you when I was offering you alliances that I might have a little power?" He shot back, panting.

"That's enough!" The good doctor shouted. "Larrin, I don't interfere with how you conduct ship's business, but this man is my patient. He's still under my care and I won't have you aggravating his condition."

"_Was_ your patient," she said.

Sheppard peered at her with narrowed eyes, swallowing the dread.

Chauklin folded his arms. "We transferring him to the hospital vessel?"

"No, we're returning him to his people. I broke away from out fleet and we're heading towards one of their smaller ships that was detected at a near by gate before it disappeared." She looked at Sheppard, raising an eyebrow.

"You...you contacted my people?" He asked dumbfounded.

"Yes, spoke to a very eager Lorne person. They're less than an hour away. I'm weary opening up a hyper space window right now, but it'll give us time to say a heart felt goodbye."

Larrin untangled his IV line. "Shocked you into silence... I'm flattered."

"Was thinking of your clothes," Sheppard replied. Upon her look, he amended. "Don't want to throw up on them," he said closing his eyes again.

"That's good of you. Since we're being so honest then maybe---"

One of her men ran into the room out of breath. "Commander!"

"What is it?" She demanded.

"Wraith contacts!"

Sheppard sat up while Larrin's eyes went wide. "We don't have weapon's on line yet!"

"What about your fleet?" Sheppard asked, pulling out the IV.

"I didn't tell them where we were going, your return isn't authorized," she said between clenched teeth.

Dr. Lance came barging into. "There are three Wraith darts!"

Sheppard was on his feet immediately using the side of the bed to steady his legs. "Help me to the chair."

Chauklin shook his head. "We don't know what the effects--"

"We're dead if we don't," he said and looked over at Larrin. "The drones are our only chance..._again._"

"Do it," she said.

Sheppard shook away her help, allowing the doctor who appeared much stronger than his age to lend a hand. His head roared and his muscles were weak but that didn't stop his adrenaline from pouring through his veins as he was helped back to the chair room.

The ship vibrated. "Feels like weapons fire!"

"Our engines have been damaged!" Someone shouted.

His body hit the chair and it reclined, instigating the familiar connection between mechanical and the biological. He closed his eyes while a million artificial signals were fed through his brain.

"There's four darts," he breathed.

The drones recognized his commands and he guided them with easy pushes towards the targets. His skin was alive with an electrical charge; static sizzled across his brain.

"Two down," he breathed heavily.

The thrill seeker in him always felt in awe at this part, how his synapses controlled such weapons. The darts split up and he guided both drones after them. His heart fluttered between his ribs, his fingers curled over the armrests.

With satisfaction, he blew away the tail of the third Wraith ship, sending it spinning into pieces and searched the empty sectors of space for the last dart.

_Where was it?_

The ship shuddered violently as his head exploded in pain, lancing through his spine and into every nerve fiber. He screamed, the chair bolted up and he couldn't get enough air into his spasming lungs.

"Sheppard!"

"What happened?"

"What about the last dart?"

"Commander, picking up on another craft...it's...it destroyed the last wraith ship."

He was on the floor, the world spun around him and his heart was being squeezed inside his chest. Hands touched the side of his face, then his neck and peeled open his eyes.

"The ship is contacting us, they are demanding to be allowed aboard, Commander."

"Stall them."

Voices were around him, the stimuli prickled his mind and he tried to move with quivering muscles. "Up," he rasped.

"I think only his people can help him...I don't know what just happened, but we're ill equipped to handle his condition."

That was the doctor's voice and Larrin's blurred in and out. "Help me damn it! We'll hand him back over."

Sheppard felt like he was falling, his chest tightened and his ears buzzed wildly. He closed his eyes to battle the vertigo and tried to place one foot in front of the other.

* * *

Lorne never knew relief could feel so tense. Upon receiving the transmission from those holding Colonel Sheppard captive, the mood in the jumper had sharpened to a knife's edge.

"No one gives up a valuable hostage unless it's a trap," Ronon stated.

"Or he's no longer any use to them," Teyla added.

That implication didn't bode well for the colonel or for the expedition. "A token of good will or not. That's why we're remaining cloaked. The Deadulus will be here in a minute's notice. Either way we'll have an ace in the hole."

No need to arrive at a fight and show your opponent all your weapons Lorne thought. "About to enter the gate," he turned to McKay. "The second we're there. I want full scans of their ships and match them to the ones we encountered the first time."

"Yes, I'm well aware. No need to remind me," McKay grouched.

The astrophysicist had been very hard on himself about Sheppard's kidnapping so he allowed the guy some leeway to vent. Just a little.

"Jumper's One ,Three and Four follow my lead," Lorne spoke over the radio.

The last thing he expected was to be caught in the middle of a battle. "We have Wraith contacts," he informed everyone. "Where the Hell are the rest of the enemy fleet?"

"Did their leader not say they would be alone?" Teyla pointed out.

"Yeah, but I didn't believe her," Lorne answered.

"Four darts are going for an attack run," McKay blurted. "The enemy ship is the same one from a few days ago. An aurora class Ancient vessel, propulsion is off line and they have no shields and---whoa. They're firing drones."

"Weapons are operational?...They didn't have those the last time," Lorne said.

"I thought only Sheppard could fire those?" Ronon asked.

"People with the gene can and only if they know what they're doing...could be the reason he was taken," McKay suggested.

"Two darts have been destroyed," Teyla said.

Lorne watched the remaining two split off in opposite directions, one drone gaining speed until its tail was blown away.

"Should we try to help?" Teyla asked.

Lorne wasn't sure. This was a hostile situation with only gut instinct telling him that his CO was the one kicking Wraith ass. If he gave away their position then they would loose the element of surprise. "Are you sure there are no more ships in this sector?"

"None," McKay replied tersely.

The final dart came from under the vessel and fired. "That's a direct hit," Lorne muttered.

McKay shook his head. "It took out their weapons."

Lorne wasn't about to watch the unarmed ship be destroyed with the chance that his commanding officer was on board. "Taking out the dart," he said firing a drone of his own.

There was a tense silence after the destruction of the Wraith ship and Lorne informed the other Jumpers to stay cloaked.

"Enough of this," he growled. After he engaged the Jumpers communications, he spoke authoritatively, "Unidentified ship, we demand to be allowed to board." Turning to McKay he asked, "How many life signs?"

"Checking... I've got Sheppard's transmitter and I'm detecting ten life signs only."

"We can take them all," Ronon said, sitting forward.

"_Small craft, we will allow you to board after we verify our structural damage."_

Lorne turned to McKay who was typing. "Engines are still out, as are their weapons."

"This is Major Lorne, we have checked and you have no structural damage."

"_Vessel, we can not allow you to--"_

"We're landing and we expect our missing crewman to be waiting for us. Lorne out," he said cutting the transmission.

It didn't take long to find the docking bay and glide inside. After giving instructions to the other jumpers to stand by for his signal; he parked the craft and swiveled around. There were two more Marines with them in the back already covering the door.

Ronon, Teyla, and Rodney anxiously waited for the hatch to open but Lorne was leading this rescue mission and stepped forward to take point. He signaled the Marines and they fanned out. A door opened revealing the woman from the transmission along with two guards. The woman didn't seem worried about the heavily armed group and strolled over exuding confidence.

"I am the Commander here but you may call me, Larrin."

"We're here to pick up Colonel Sheppard," Lorne cut to the chase.

"Where is he!" Ronon demanded.

Larrin cocked an eyebrow and held her hands up. "He's being brought over as we speak."

"Was he controlling the drones?" McKay asked.

"Yes, he was helping defend our ship and I give you my thanks for taking out the last Wraith dart." Larrin sized up the team and her face took on a more hesitate quality. "My fleet will be arriving very soon. They are unaware of this arrangement so I would suggest leaving quickly after Sheppard is returned to you."

"So, after kidnapping a man and subjecting him to who knows what. You saw the error of your ways and oh decided to make amends by doing the right thing?" McKay mocked as only he could.

Lorne wanted to strangle him but was too busy aiming his weapon at an older man who approached carefully.

"This is my ship's physician Dr. Chauklin and he's here to explain to you Sheppard's condition." The hard-nosed expression cracked in the commander's facade.

Lorne could hear the muscles of his team tighten around him and he hoped they kept their cool.

Rodney however wasn't going to just wait for the guy to speak. "What condition?"

The doctor held up his hands, too. "Mr. Sheppard has been helping us bring this ship back on line. We have no one with the proper gene and his services have accelerated out research and allowed for the ----"

"He's been your gene puppet," McKay cut him off.

"The amount of progress we've made has been remarkable but we were unaware of the side effects of working with the Ancient technology," the physician tried to explain.

Rodney's face hardened. "Exactly how long have you been using his _help?_"

The doctor looked to his leader and Larrin took hold of the situation. "Ten hours today, almost ten hours yesterday."

"Are you kidding me!" McKay exclaimed. "Are you trying to run him into the ground and stomp on him afterwards! Do you idiots have any idea how such an interface works? No, I guess not or you wouldn't have tried to drain him like some living battery. No you--"

"Enough!" Lorne yelled and turned to Larrin. "Just being him to us or we take this ship apart."

"He should be right behind me," the doctor said. "During the Wraith attack, Mr. Sheppard was in the control chair when the weapon's platform took a hit...it...well it effected him somehow."

"Effected him?" Teyla asked, stepping forward.

"It's like the damage to the ship sent a jolt or something into him. Has that ever happened before when using the chair? That the person controlling it might receive some type of feedback from the damage?" The physician asked almost too intrigued.

"No, it hasn't!" McKay snapped. "I can't believe you imbeciles."

Sheppard was brought down the hall, two people supporting his dead weight between them. Their commanding officer was barely able to drag his feet but he was conscious and tried to move faster once he looked up to see them waiting.

Ronon growled, his hand gripping his weapon tighter as he glared at the hostage takers. McKay and Teyla were quick, not even asking permission to move as they hurried down the hall and took on Sheppard's burden from the strangers.

"We have you, John," Teyla reassured him.

The colonel's limbs trembled and his complexion was chalk white with the front part of his hair matted down by perspiration. Dull hazel eyes acknowledged him and it took everything in Lorne to keep cool after noticing the faded bruises and cuts on his CO's face.

Ronon fumed where he stood, a smoking volcano ready to erupt. Lorne gestured for him to follow the struggling trio back inside the jumper. He walked over to Larrin his face an expressionless mask but his voice carried the weight of his whole team.

"You better pray we never cross paths again, _commander._"

Larrin narrowed her eyes. "That might be sooner than you think. Tell Sheppard I accept his offer...for what its worth."

Lorne didn't want an explanation and allowed the Marines to cover his exit back into the jumper. Sheppard was laid across one of the seats, Teyla offering him some water. "We'll be home soon, sir."

"We just going to let them get away?" Ronon snarled.

"Today we are," Lone replied. "Jumpers One, Three and Four. Back to Atlantis, we've got the package."

* * *

Colonel Carter met the jumpers and gave the medical team a wide berth while they loaded up her second in command. She hadn't known Sheppard for very long but he had earned her respect and admiration. A weight lifted from her shoulder at his arrival even if he looked very ill.

"Major. Do we know what happened?"

Lorne exhaled heavily. "No, Colonel. Not until Colonel Sheppard is able to tell us."

"I'll put the base on high alert," she paused at his slow nod. "What is it?"

"Colonel Sheppard has survived some pretty horrendous things. I doubt in just a few days he gave up vital intel."

"I understand, I really do. Until I hear Sheppard's account of things we have to be cautious."

* * *

Carter's first visit to the infirmary earned her very little information and more feelings as an outside observer. There was paper work to be completed including the weekly databurst to the IOA concerning this matter.

The same four people waited in different chairs from hours earlier. It was such a relief to take Sheppard off the MIA list. She hadn't been forced to scale back the series of search and rescue missions. All she needed was to be both the new commander and branded a bad guy by most the base.

"We know anything?" She inquired the group.

"No, Moses hasn't come back down from the mountain yet," McKay expressed in his usual snappish tone.

"I don't think Dr. Keller would like to be compared to a very old man," Carter said. "I say we find out."

Dr. Keller stared at two monitors while peering at a hand held device. Carter moved closer and waited patiently close by, the good doctor addressing her without looking up. "I'm still going over the tests results and comparing them to Carson's notes in Sheppard's file."

"I'll take what you have," Carter said with a small smile.

Three other sets of eyes anxiously awaited the news.

"His electrolytes are all over the place. Sodium, calcium, and potassium levels are extremely low. His blood work is also a mess. His iron, Co2, and oxygen sats are also extremely below normal. All of which toppled his metabolic rate." Keller looked up and took a deep breath. "Sorry, I know this doesn't mean much."

Teyla looked troubled with a million questions on her lips, Ronon crossed his arms, waiting for the bottom line and Rodney—well Rodney looked ready to blow his top with the need to badger the physician with a list of issues.

Carter smiled at her. "I know a little about a lot. Sounds like Sheppard's bio-chemistry needs to right itself," she said, trying to explain it in simpler terms for two thirds of the Team.

"Long-term exposure to Ancient technology, especially systems that are demanding and require a great deal of control always causes these type of issues," Rodney snapped. "That's the reason why we have protocols in place to monitor such actions so people like colonel-super gene don't over do it. And I'm sure being in the control chair while that ship took a hit, only scrambled Sheppard's system even more."

Keller nodded. "Yes, its dangerous, but I think we were able to treat him in time. I'm just not used to trying to deal with a physiology that's so... well, out of whack."

"Is that your official diagnosis!" Rodney growled.

"But he's going to recover?" Carter hedged.

"We're going to keep close tabs on his heart to resolve the high blood pressure. Proper medication should bring all his electrolytes back to proper levels. With that, fluids and plenty of bed rest. He's going to be exhausted, his body has been put through the wringer. Not to mention that he has bruises that vary in age but are consistent with more than one beating," Keller looked uncomfortable about that last bit.

Ronon's back stiffened but he said nothing. This type of news wasn't a surprise really, to any of them.

"I understand," Carter said. "We'll leave you alone and come back later. I'm sure Colonel Sheppard needs the rest."

Teyla didn't look ready to leave and hesitated a moment. "Dr. Keller, is it alright for one of us at a time stay with him. That way when he wakes up----"

"One person. That's it," Keller said firmly.

Carter was glad she didn't have a say in which member stayed first. That was a team decision.

* * *

Rodney looked for a free spot anywhere, taking a seat at the end of Sheppard's bed with a sigh and placed his tray of food in his lap. "What is it with you and working together with the bad guys?"

Sheppard's fork dripped gravy all over his own tray as it hung in mid-air and he decided the piece of steak took precedence over answering the question.

"I think the colonel has already explained that, Rodney. The Wraith would have killed them all," Teyla stated from her chair.

Sheppard enjoyed every piece of real food, savoring things like salt and seasonings. It even felt warm in his belly and he leaned his head against the wall behind him. "Those people were a card short of a full deck."

Ronon used Sheppard's desk to eat from, stabbing the piece of steak with his fork like a spare.

"Sounds like you did a pretty good job of pissing them off."

"Just doing research for a book," Sheppard replied but didn't elaborate despite the odd looks. He finished the vegetable melody and rubbed at his temples.

"Do you still have a headache?" Teyla inquired.

"Yeah," he sighed. "Keller says they'll linger for a few more days."

"Here, got you extra cake. Doc says you're supposed to gain your strength," Ronon picked up the spongy stuff with a fork and dropped it on Sheppard's clean tray.

"Thanks," he said, snatching it up before Rodney took an interest. "I'm just glad Keller let me out after two days."

Teyla looked up from her meal. "Yes, she did. But you're not supposed to do----"

"...Anything strenuous and take my meds. I know. I'll do whatever is needed to get my energy levels up. I'm sick of feeling like I've run a marathon," Sheppard admitted.

"That's because you allowed them to turn you into a human alternator."

Sheppard glared at Rodney. "It wasn't like I had a choice. If I refused they weren't going to just let me go home."

"You ever get back at those guards?" Ronon asked, with narrow eyes.

"No, strangely...I think she did. I'm not sure. I was too out of it at the time," Sheppard explained.

"Really? Your hot alien jailer punished them? Gee and did she tuck you into bed, too?" McKay snarked.

"No, she only ordered my first beat down and threatened to kill me on several occasions," Sheppard snapped.

"Before she fell for your charms you mean," Rodney egged on.

"No, even after our first Wraith encounter I knew my stay might be longer then she let on. I think she was bi-polar or something."

"Sounds like she was torn between helping her people and doing the right thing," Teyla added.

"Oh, yeah right thing." McKay countered, "Kidnapping, torture, gene slavery, seduction---"

"Rodney!" Sheppard growled. "Knock it off. You're aggravating my headache."

"I'm just saying...Even while being held prisoner and used as a lab experiment you still tried to form an alliance," McKay pointed out.

"They have advanced technology and from what I gather many ships...who knows when we might need them." Sheppard pushed his food away. "Thanks for bringing the mess hall to me."

"It was our pleasure," Teyla said cleaning up.

"Try not to get taken by anymore hot female pirates," Rodney huffed snatching Sheppard's tray.

Ronon snorted.

"I'll do my best," Sheppard drawled and watched them leave.

He let out a breath, looking at the ceiling feeling confident about one thing. He had something that his "What To Do When Taken Prisoner in the Pegasus Galaxy" handbook wouldn't include.

A Team that was willing to do anything to get him back, no matter what the odds.

* * *

Fini


End file.
